Even when things are going right, it doesn’t always feel like I’m being the right person, making the right decisions. Or maybe I am, but I’m still struggling with things. I silently struggle with a lot of things. And normally I can hide it under my work, forget about it behind the stress of so many deadlines. But ast things come to a close, naturally everything else comes into view. I hope I can explain it.
Today I saw life shift. I sat in the passenger seat of the car and witnessed the impact of time, of decision, of growing up and growing old.
Kris took his very first flight in a helicopter this morning. I called it a snowglobe with wings, it was so small. Mom thought that was pretty funny. We joked about tearing up some paper and throwing it inside. But I watched my boyfriend, my man, my eventual fiance and husband climb into the cockpit of this little flyer and saw the direction of his life shift. And that’s not a bad thing. Truth is, I haven’t seen him this happy and relieved in a very long time. I think he finally feels it, feels a desire to work for something, to reach for something, like he’s finally heading towards a goal that’s worth it. He was nervous, trying to play cool and I know him well enough to read his body language to know these things. He still seems a little lost, perhaps a little overwhelmed with the enormous decision that he will certainly have to soon make. He can finish school and scrounge up the money for flight school, or he can join a military branch and sign away at least 6 years of his life for free schooling and training and hope to get out on top with red carpets and champain waiting. Either way, it won’t be easy. For any of us.
Later today he and I visited my grandpa in the nursing home at the hospital. There’s been tension in our family over this; about his health, his company, people making the time to visit. Mostly it’s between The Sisters. Somehow I am excused. But we went. And as we walked down the hall with a poinsettia in my arms, we were greeted by a row of old people in chairs just sitting in the hallway. I smiled at them because I knew I should. Some smiled back, some greeted us and one woman made a joke. We laughed and continued on to find my grandpa. We turned a corner and I caught sight of him out of the corner of my eye, sitting in a wheelchair in a small room with another grandpa watching TV. Gramps was looking right at us. We came in with smiles and hugs and kisses. We tried to talk. The TV was too loud. Gramps was very tired and had trouble keeping his eyes open. He couldn’t remember Kris’ name. He always calls him Paradiddle Joe. I put the poinsettia on top of his own TV becuase it was the only space I could find. His tray had a box of cookies from Aunt Kim and some framed pictures of the family.
He doesn’t look like my gramps anymore. His hair is cut very short because it’s easier to take care of that way. When he looked at me, all I could think about was how small his pupils had become; just tiny pen-dots amidst those bright blue eyes that used to shine with his humor. I remembered how he looked healthy; a little fat, red and he would say “Boy!” a lot and laugh. Now he sits in a chair and struggles to talk. I can tell he is frustrated. He is frustrated by what’s happening to him, frustrated that so few will have the patience to sit and wait and listen to him while he tries to speak.
We didn’t stay long because he couldn’t stay awake. I kissed him and told him we would see him at Christmas.
We left the room and my hands flew to my face as I cried. Kris walked beside me as I walked blindly down the hall, trying to subdue my tears.
His condition isn’t anything new. He’s been gradually declinding for months, years. But I think seeing him there, sitting in his wheelchair in that small room just….hit me. It reminded me about the awfulness of getting old, of everything that we went through with grandma, my fears of my future and my immediate family. And it’s nothing that can be avoided, but how awful it is to witness. What can we do? What is right?
Kris’ grandmother has been in a nursing home ever since we’ve been dating, as far as I can remember. They had two times when they thought for sure they would lose her. I guess after the second time when she got better, Kris gave up. He hasn’t seen her in a very long time. As he explained, it’s hard enough saying goodbye the first time. It’s easier to stay detached at this point. She doesn’t remember much anymore; she has her good days and her bad days.
I guess….I guess I’m just struggling again to find who I am, who I’m supposed to be. What I’m supposed to be. Sometimes I can be so stoic. You’d never know it, but sometimes emotions don’t touch me. I am completely unphased. And yet other times…like today…emotions just knock me over and I can’t breathe.
This helps. THis always helps. But I still feel lost. And I can’t even get out why. I can’t understand my own feelings right now, of feeling trapped, isolated, sad and happy….All I can do is put it in a bag and bury it as another phase of mine. It’s the intolerable mind. And unfortunately, I am beginning to think or realize that this happens to me more than it does to the average person, to any person.
Well, Buck UP JB! Only 3 days till Christmas.
